


For Weather

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altered Mental States, Cat keith, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy, Hallucinations, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Mental Health Issues, Roommates, catboy keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: Shiro finds an umbrella. For weather.Inspired by this post by Iguanamouth





	For Weather

All Shiro had wanted was a table.

It was supposed to be easy. An old lab partner was moving away, somewhere far off and exciting because he couldn’t find himself at the bottom of a red cup like the rest of their university. Shiro was happy for Matt, sure, but mostly he wanted a table. A small one that’d fit right next to his bed in his one-bedroom apartment, so he could stop putting his reading glasses on the floor and then stepping on them in the morning. Matt couldn’t take all his furniture with him on his journey of self-discovery, and if Shiro managed to outmaneuver his sister, there was a chance he’d come home with a little something extra, too. Like a lamp.

That might’ve been too ambitious, but that didn’t stop him from dreaming. He planned on grabbing everything he could feasibly carry on a public bus, and making a run for it. Between mid-terms, the price of heating and the sore throat that wouldn’t leave him alone, the possibility of ticking off one minor inconvenience without any stress felt like a blessing.

He should’ve been more careful. Everything was going too well. But somewhere between one stop and the next on the rickety old bus, he dozed off. When he came to, it felt like he was in another world.

His head was spinning, eyes watery and ears stuffed, and Shiro didn’t think it had anything to do with missing his stop. He stumbled out of the bus, and was greeted by the rumbling sky above him. Dark clouds were rolling in, marching to the pounding bass of thunder. By his estimate, Matt’s apartment was in… France. Or south of the Equator. Or on Mars, he didn’t know, but he had to get on another bus to reach it. 

Maybe.

Shiro didn’t know, and he was less than enthused to find out. Frustration was easier to wear when there were no witnesses. His reserves of patience had taken a pummeling over the past few days, but a slow ebb had been hurting him for months. Little things that couldn’t be blamed for everything, had still compounded until they were ugly and cruel. He dragged his feet, hiding in the folds of his jacket, like he could ward off anyone who wanted to recognize him.

That was when he saw it.

In an open field, a mismatched collection of furniture and overflowing boxes on long rickety tables. Sitting on a rocking chair of chipped blue paint was an old man with a sunburnt face, smoking a rusted pipe between his chapped lips, the proverbial king in his kingdom of junk. In the middle of it all was a sign that read:

_4 SALE_

Shiro didn’t know how he’d dragged everything out, or where he’d came from. The closest building was the post office on the opposite street, but it was already closed for the day. The man turned to him and waved. Reluctantly, Shiro waved back.

He should at least check if he had a table.

With every step he took, it seemed like the boxes doubled until Shiro was surrounded by walls and walls of pre-loved stuffed toys, fraying sweaters, and stained sandwich makers. He thought he’d have to dig through the mess, but he found a table on his first try. It came up to his knees and looked like it was made up of some kind of fancy wood. On top of it was a black umbrella, with a canopy made of a soft material, almost like leather. It was heavier than it looked.

“Waterproof.” The old man said proudly, around a toothless grin.

Shiro hadn’t asked, but its price tag said it was less than a dollar.

“That’s alright, I’m more interested in the table.” Shiro said with a smile, only slightly nervous. There was something unsettling about the man, but cheap was good and he could put up with a little leering if it meant saving a few bucks. Having something put together and a little more sturdy than an IKEA nightstand would be a plus.

“It’s for  _weather_.” The man laughed, patting the umbrella fondly.

“Yes, it is.” Shiro shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly and looked back towards the bus stop, wondering when the next one would arrive. “But how much is the nightstand?”

“$40.”

“Oh.” Shiro blinked in surprise and shrugged, ready to move on when the man held out his hand to stop him.

“But I’ll make you a deal. I’ll knock it down to $5 with purchase of the umbrella.”

“Okay?” It was a tempting offer. Shiro had once walked 5 miles to a Garrison lecture event on 18th century German architecture just because they’d advertised free pizza during the talk. He’d even lined his pockets with napkins to smuggle home an extra slice or two. Cheap was good and this was well within his price range. “I think you’ve got a deal.”

He dug around in his wallet and handed over the money as the man took it gleefully. “Enjoy!”

“Uh…I will? Good luck with your sale.” Shiro offered the man another smile and stuck the umbrella under his arm before hefting the table up and waddling back across the street to the bus stop. He plopped it down and sat to wait, staring at the old man in his yard sale awkwardly. The man just stared right back.

It felt like forever before the bus returned, but as soon as he saw it motoring towards him, Shiro sprung off the bench. He hustled himself and his second-hand treasure on board.

Just as the bus turned the corner, Shiro caught a glimpse of a blinking Applebee’s sign in the window glass. It was almost exactly where the old man’s sale would’ve been.

 

* * *

 

The table fit perfectly, tucked between Shiro’s bed and his cabinet, Shiro put his glasses on top of it and smiled. Then he picked them up again, because he had two more chapters worth of reading to get through before class, and hopefully he’d be able to squeeze in some time to sleep. His eyes drifted, as if on their own accord, to the umbrella leaning against the far wall. It was exactly where Shiro had left it, but he’d almost expected it to have disappeared. In his apartment’s fluorescent light, its canvas looked glossy, like an oil slick pretending it was solid.

Shiro reached for it.

The springs moved smoothly when he opened it up, its shadow on the floor whole and firm, but a sudden chill settled across Shiro’s bones, like someone had opened a window. There was a shimmer of something on the handle of his umbrella. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was frost.

Outside, it began to rain.

“It’s for weather.” Shiro said. The funny little saying stuck to the back of his head. He shook it free, and tucked it away, with the rest of things he didn’t need to know and tried to make space for the intricacies of thermodynamics. He had a long night ahead. Shiro put down the umbrella and forgot all about it.

That night, Shiro woke to a rustle and a thud, like the apartment above him was having a party. When he looked up, there were two dim lights floating above his head, just out of reach. Shiro squinted and scrubbed his face. They were gone before he looked again.

By the morning, he’d forgotten all about them. He’d forgotten about everything, because he’d realized he’d slept through his alarm and had under ten minutes to get to class. He didn’t remember until he stumbled out of his bedroom to find someone sitting on his couch.

Sitting on the arm of his couch.

The young man perched like he owned it, the room, the apartment itself and everything in it. Shiro opened his mouth to ask what the intruder was doing here when the man’s tail lashed irritably. Wait,  _tail_? He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up, and refocused on the stranger.

He was around Shiro’s age, shorter and gracefully balanced on the tattered arm of the couch. Sleek black ears sprouted from his dark hair and a matching tail curled around him. He watched Shiro with unblinking violet eyes. Shiro wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d spent the night before drinking or smoking anything. Even when he was hammered, hallucinating attractive animal boys wasn’t really his style.

“Uh. Hi?” Shiro tried.

The creature just watched him without moving. Shiro sighed and grabbed his backpack. If this was some kind of mental breakdown, it was going to have to wait until he was done with class. There just wasn’t enough time today to schedule it in.

“Please don’t claw up the couch?” He told the hallucination seriously and headed towards the door. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed the umbrella and headed outside.

The wind blew hard enough to make him shiver as he huddled beneath the umbrella. The temperature dropped, rain freezing into ice before settling into a wet, heavy snow that clung to his jacket and soaked through the cuffs of his pants.

But above the umbrella, the sun had parted the clouds, and Shiro didn’t even notice.

 

* * *

 

Shiro stopped hallucinating.

At least, he would like to stop hallucinating. No more strange animal people had shown up in the middle of his class, and whenever he heard someone speak, he was pretty sure other people did, too. By the time he returned to his apartment, Shiro was ready to write off his lapse in judgement. A lapse in judgement was still in the realm of acceptable. A lapse of reality was just as bad as it sounded.

But the moment he opened the door, the strange creature stepped out. His clothes were covered in tiny swirling marks of black and red, but every time Shiro tried to focus on their pattern, they made his head hurt. They looked… a lot like his clothes.

He was shorter than Shiro, but he pressed up against him, completely unafraid, pulling Shiro into a dance that he didn’t know the moves to. Shiro was circled and inspected, his cheeks burning with shame and confusion, but before he could stutter out a protest, the creature walked away, taking the staircase down and out of the building.

Shiro’s knees gave out.

He sagged against his doorframe, breathing hard like he’d run a marathon. His backpack tumbled out of his hand. This was a joke? A prank? This had to be…

“I’m losing my mind.” Shiro whispered to the empty hallway.

No one answered him.

 

* * *

 

That night, Shiro fell asleep at his desk, his exam notes scattered beneath him and a highlighter still in hand. He woke briefly at three in the morning, to scratching at his door, but it blended into his dreams. He slept through the sound of his window opening, and he slept through a blanket being draped across his back.

 

* * *

 

Shiro made it out of bed three more times that week, huddled under his umbrella and fighting through the driving snow and numbing cold towards class. The sun in the sky was a myth.

Back in his apartment, the creature made itself at home. Shiro caught it out of the corner of his eye, watching him as he hunched over his homework, too tired to make sense of the words. It perched on the other side of the room when he fell asleep on the couch. At night, he would wake up to a pair of glowing purple eyes in the darkness, blinking out into nothingness. Most of the time, he did his best to ignore the hallucination, making room for his madness with a tired acceptance.

He trudged in from the outside and shook the snow from his jacket, leaning the umbrella up against the wall. Shiro peeled soggy layers of clothes from his body and left them in a damp puddle on the floor, water soaking into the carpet. He’d deal with it later, he told himself, knowing that he wouldn’t. With a heavy sigh, Shiro dropped down on the couch and shivered, hands so cold that it hurt to flex his fingers.

Shadows moved, the creature pulling itself from the darkness. It regarded him almost curiously as the flickering light of the television illuminated Shiro’s face harshly, drawing him into mindless detachment. The black tail lashed before its owner slunk across the room to curl up beside Shiro on the couch, demanding attention.

Heat sank into Shiro’s body down to his bones, thawing the lingering chill as the man shared his warmth. Shiro blinked as if noticing him for the first time, startled by tricks his mind was playing but too comfortable to pull away.

 _Keith_. The hallucination helpfully supplied. Shiro almost laughed, wrapping his hands around Keith’s until the cold-ache disappeared. Hunger replaced the emptiness in his gut and Shiro tried to think of the last time he’d eaten.

“Well, Keith. You wouldn’t happen to like pizza, would you?”

Turned out, hallucinations were a big fan of spicy Hawaiian. That night, when Shiro saw the glowing eyes watching from the corner of his bedroom, he just rolled over and went back to sleep.

Some days, it was easy to forget about him entirely, like a quiet roommate who never caused much fuss, did his dishes on time, and kept his side of the house clean, even if that was more than Shiro’s roommates had ever done.

Some days, it was impossible, like when Shiro came home to find a small hill of socks in the middle of the living room. Beside them, his hallucination perched on the couch arm, his ears slicked back until they almost touched his skull, tail swaying to music Shiro would never hear. Keith watched him as he approached. Shiro didn’t have that many socks, and on closer inspection, he realized none of them were his and a few had too many toes to be meant for humans.

Keith squinted the closer Shiro got to his collection. So Shiro turned and headed straight for his bedroom. He came back with the last two pairs of clean gym socks he had left and put them on top of the pile.

_HA!_

It echoed through his home, a sharp, sweet sound. When he turned around, Keith was smiling so wide, his eyes crinkled, and Shiro blushed, brighter and hotter than he had in weeks. He mumbled an excuse, not entirely sure it made any sense, but the memory of that smile followed him into the night.

The next morning, the socks were gone. He never saw any of them again.

 

* * *

 

“No, I’m fine, really. It’s just been busy here, you know how it is.” Shiro said into his phone, scrubbing a hand over his face. Mid-terms had ended. If he’d wanted to, he could have gone home, he supposed. Or he could just not move. Spend his ticket money on groceries or more delivery food because delivery didn’t require you to leave the house.

On the other end of the line, his mother sighed. “Okay sweetheart, but don’t work too hard.”

Shiro dragged in a sigh, and it rattled inside his ribs, leaving his bones aching with its strength. “I won’t.”

“We miss you,” his ma added. She sounded faraway. Shiro must have been on speaker again.

“I miss you, too.”

They told him they loved him, and he loved them back, but by the end of the call, Shiro felt wrung out from the inside. He wasn’t tired, but he wanted to sleep again, just to make it all stop for a while. He didn’t hear his hallucination approach, but he suspected he wouldn’t have heard Keith unless Keith wanted him to. Then Keith pressed up beside him, now a familiar weight like a worn duvet, his ears perked and alert, but eyes deceptively sleepy.

“You lied to them.”

Shiro froze. “You can speak?”

“If you listen.” The answer was laced with annoyance, but Shiro ignored it. “Why did you lie to them?”

“It’s easier.” Easier to pretend everything was fine, easier not to make them worry or have to deal with their concern. Easier than trying to come up with the words to describe what was wrong when he didn’t even know them or to admit anything was wrong at all. Easier to put one foot in front of the other and get through each day. He didn’t say any of it, but somehow, Keith seemed to understand. The creature stretched out, wrapping his arms around Shiro and pulling him down into safety and warmth. Shiro didn’t resist, he never did.

“What are you?” It was the first time Shiro had asked. Talking hallucinations had to be worse than silent ones, right?

Keith didn’t answer, it was easier not to… and easier for Shiro to just lose himself in the creature’s arms.

 

* * *

 

Classes began again in the driving rain, wind blowing so hard that they threatened to rip Shiro’s umbrella from his hand. He struggled against the gale, soaked to the skin from the storm as lightning bolts crackled among the spokes of the umbrella. No one noticed the storm he carried while the sun was shining overhead.

Keith had been offering more commentary now that he was talking, whispering words and questions from the shadows whenever Shiro was home. It was impossible to drown out the presence and he didn’t even try, letting the cat creature draw the answers from him like leeching poison from a wound. Keith sat up on the counter as Shiro cooked dinner, finally filling his refrigerator with something other than old take out boxes. He locked violet eyes with Shiro as he deliberately edged the salt shaker towards the edge of the countertop before sending it tumbling to the floor.

Shiro just sighed and picked it up, pretending he didn’t see Keith steal a slice of ham from his sandwich. Without a word, he just made a second one and handed it to his hallucination who gifted him with a fanged smile.

Then one day, the doorbell rang. They were expecting pizza, spicy Hawaiian with extra ham. Shiro didn’t think anything of it until Keith was at the door. Keith was at the door! With cat ears and tail and Shiro’s shirt if he remembered to put on a shirt. He tore through the room, rushing to intercept, but Keith stood in the doorway, holding an extra-large pizza, posture easy and lose. He gave the delivery boy three gold pieces and stayed silent through his thank you.

Shiro wasn’t sure why, but the pizza tasted better that night.

Sometimes Keith liked to run around the house really fast, then disappeared entirely. Sometimes Keith went out all night and didn’t return until Shiro was ready to leave in the morning. Shiro wasn’t worried. Keith liked to be there when he went off to class, so he could say goodbye.

 

* * *

 

“You can put it down.” Keith said.

Shiro looked up, more accustomed to the non-sequiturs now, but curious all the same. His roommate was staring at the corner. No, not at the corner, at Shiro’s umbrella.

Waterproof. For weather.

“You know I can’t do that.”

Keith almost looked bored, but the tension in his ears and the line of his tail told Shiro it was all an act. The umbrella was closed now, but Shiro could still feel its chill. No one ever asked why his shoes were always soggy. No one ever asked why he was so prone to colds.

Keith stopped, then he shrugged. “No, I suppose you can’t.”

He walked up to Shiro, his gait lazy and relaxed but ever so graceful, and he reached up to scratch through Shiro’s fringe. Gentle nails teased across his scalp to stop at the back of his ear. Then he scratched some more. It was the best thing Shiro’d felt in a long time.

When night came, Keith wasn’t in the house, but Shiro left the blankets turned down on the empty side of his bed anyway.

When he woke up, Keith had stolen all of the sheets and slept peacefully beside him. Shiro actually smiled.

 

* * *

 

Keith’s questions were louder now, following him out of the house and tip-toeing around the puddles Shiro left as he walked across campus. Shiro felt a flare of annoyance, hallucinations were worse when he answered them in public, but Keith was persistent.

“Where are you going?” He murmured against Shiro’s ear.

“To the library.”

“Why?”

“I have to study.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to.” It wasn’t much of an answer and it never satisfied Keith for long. He pulled at the threads of Shiro’s carefully crafted isolation, unraveling him bit by bit to look at what was underneath. Always cautious and always curious. Shiro didn’t know why he let Keith get so far.

When the library’s silence became too oppressive, Keith sprawled lazily and possessive across his books, demanding attention at the most inopportune time. Shiro moved to ignore the disturbance, but Keith refused to go until Shiro scratched behind his ears and murmured sweet words. “You’re in the way, I have to finish. I need to pass this test.”

“You’re ready, you know you’re ready.” Keith inched a book closer to the edge of the table and Shiro caught it right as it teetered to fall. The creature huffed in annoyance that his game was interrupted.

“I’m not ready. I can’t stop, if I don’t pass…”

“Then what?” Keith flipped himself over to look into Shiro’s face, glowing eyes stealing straight into his thoughts.

“Then it all falls apart.” Fear crawled up around Shiro’s throat like a noose, choking him. His vision narrowed to nothing, failure crushing his ribs into splinters. Failure was unacceptable. He’d disappoint them all, he would be nothing. It would all be a waste. He was too late, he couldn’t breathe. He would be nothing and worthless.

Keith’s hand slipped into his own and drew him back from the edge, guided by those violet lights.

“I’m okay.” He croaked, squeezing Keith’s hand tightly.

“Why are you lying?” 

Shiro didn’t have the answer, but the question hung in the air.

“Can you rest?” Keith asked gently, maybe more gently than Shiro had ever heard him, and it made his chest hurt, the weight of disappointment crushing against his ribs.

“I hate myself when I do.”

It was a confession that didn’t deserve to be spoken out loud, but Keith never made fun of him. He tucked Shiro against his side and buried his face in Shiro’s hair. It felt like Shiro was drifting, like his head was filled with water and he was both the sea and the shipwrecked. One by one his books disappeared, even if Keith never shifted.

They walked home together, tucked under Shiro’s umbrella, and maybe, just maybe, the rain didn’t seem so heavy.

 

* * *

 

The television flickered in the dark living room, but Shiro barely paid attention to the background noise. His body hurt, too tired to move. Keith watched him as always, a familiar presence now and a welcome one. Who knew that hallucinations could actually become friends? He wondered if the other stray thoughts and ghosts living in his head could be so kind.

“Are you okay?” Keith’s question hovered from the shadows and always prompted the same answer they both knew was a lie.

“Yes.”

This time, it wasn’t good enough. Keith moved more like a cat than a man, slinking into existence and stalking towards the couch. He straddled Shiro’s hips, his weight solid and warm, and Shiro couldn’t keep from wrapping his hands around the creature’s waist. He leaned in and Shiro let him, accepting and passive as Keith pressed a kiss to his lips. Soft. Gentle. Just a hint of demanding pressure as Shiro’s mouth opened and Keith claimed him. It warmed Shiro from the inside, crackling sparks inside of his chest where his heart used to be.

Maybe it was still there after all.

“Are you okay?” The question came again, as insistent as the kiss that stole Shiro’s breath.

“No.”

It came like shattered ice breaking apart, the spider-webbing cracks left by Keith’s touch melting down too far inside of him. Grief welled through the fissures, a drowning torrent flooding his senses with the storm that followed at his heels every time he stepped out of the door. He choked on the pain and the truth, wrapping his arms around Keith as he sobbed.

When it passed, the apartment was quiet again, the storm spent. Shiro didn’t have the strength to pull himself from the couch, but Keith didn’t ask him for anything more than he could give.

He hid against Keith’s side, holding on to him with all the strength he had left.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to see me like this.” Shiro didn’t want anyone to see him like this, but Keith especially. Keith who was proud and viciously independent, no matter how much of himself he’d shared with Shiro. Who had the brightest smiles and the wickedest eyes Shiro’d ever seen. Keith, who was kind, even when he was just as isolated as Shiro was.

“It’s okay.” Keith said. “If you want, I won’t look.”

Then he reached down, and kissed Shiro’s brow. For now, that was good enough.

 

* * *

 

“Are you lonely?” Shiro asked, looking up from a book he didn’t remember picking up. Keith was on the opposite side of the room, spread out across the couch, one of Shiro’s shirt’s tucked under his head. But he paused, tense enough that Shiro could see the apprehension that warred through him.

His answer was almost too soft to hear.

“Not anymore.”

Shiro didn’t ask Keith to come closer. Keith would when he felt like it, and Shiro was always ready to pull him in.

Sometimes he opened his umbrella, and a storm brewed in its hidden skies. Sometimes it was so harsh and so cold that Shiro’s hands ached with ice that seeped through his skin, and he was left crying, so sure that he would never let go.

Those days would never go away completely, but they passed. If he was lucky, they would always pass.

 

* * *

 

One day, Shiro went home. There was no occasion, no reason beyond a long weekend in the middle of the semester. His mothers were thrilled. They loved him and they held him. They made him his favorite food, and let him sleep until noon. They made Shiro feel tired in ways he couldn’t explain, but it was a good tired, that made him sleep easy at night.

“Come back soon.” His mother said as they dropped him off at the bus station.

“You should eat more.” His ma insisted, successfully hiding another sandwich in his backpack. It was already filled with cookies, store bought but the fancy kind.

Shiro hugged them both, and wondered how they could feel so frail and so strong at the same time. He supposed all humans were, in an abstract way. Mostly he liked the way that ended with hugs.

It was raining outside his building, but inside, it was as bright as a spring day, even with all the lights off. His umbrella lay where he’d left it, but Shiro hadn’t remembered leaving it open.

Keith wasn’t there but he was back the next night, bringing home brightly colored stones and a wicked sliver of curved metal stained with copper, that left Shiro inexplicably worried whenever he touched it. Keith threaded one of the stones with silver and fastened it around Shiro’s neck. It caught the light and its gleam reflected off the walls, spilling into Shiro’s eyes until all he could see was light. Then Keith beamed.

“Woah.” Shiro whispered, but it felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him.

Keith leaned in, his cheek brushing against Shiro’s, lips tracing along the curve of his jaw. “Don’t lose me okay?”

“Never.” Shiro promised.

He would keep that promise for as long as he lived.

 

* * *

 

“It wasn’t what I thought it would be,” Matt said, his voice tiny and high-pitched through his laptop. There were bags under his eyes. He hadn’t shaved in days, and it looked like he’d lost a boxing match with an angry comb. “It’s… quieter. Noisier. I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?” Shiro worried. They were friends enough that Matt would let him take his things, but compassion had never been hard for Shiro.

“Tired, but I’ll live. This was all more work than I was anticipating. My sister is getting ready to join the Garrison next semester, she’s already been assigned to her team. You should say hello to her sometime, give her some encouragement.” Matt said with a grin. “You holding up?”

Shiro opened his mouth to answer and stopped himself before the familiar lie could cross his lips. He swallowed, took a breath, and tried the truth. “It’s hard. Some days are better than others, I’m still finding my way. It feels like I get lost sometimes.”

“Are you getting help? I can come visit if you don’t want to be alone.” Matt’s worried face pressed close to the screen.

“I’d like to see you, but I am getting help.” Shiro smiled, it came easier to him now that it was the real thing. A shadow slid behind him, he could feel Keith lean over to see what he was doing, always curious. “I’m not doing this alone.”

“Oh!” Matt seemed startled before offering a small wave. “Hey there, new roommate?”

Shiro glanced over at Keith, the creature’s expression smug and secretive. “This is… Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith. Glad that Shiro has someone looking out for him.”

The call didn’t last long and Shiro closed his laptop, following Keith out towards the door. “He could see you.” He said, not sure if it was an accusation or a question.

“Well, he was looking.” Keith said with a shrug.

“What are you?” He asked, this time more forcefully. This time, Shiro thought he was strong enough to hear the answer.

“Your friend.” Keith held out his hand and Shiro took it with a smile. “Will you walk with me this afternoon?”

Shiro hesitated by the door, ready to grab his umbrella just in case.  _For Weather_ , it had said, and he’d hidden behind it for so long. When Keith opened the door, the warm autumn sun was shining through the rose gold leaves and Shiro left it behind, unneeded. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans on tumblr [here](http://itdans.tumblr.com/)  
> Rune's tumblr is [here](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com/) and twitter is [here.](http://twitter.com/runicscribbles)
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed! Come say hello. :)


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